SEATTLE — This is what we’re missing.

That’s all I thought Wednesday, as Andrew Nesmith — who much of America had never heard of — hit six consecutive 3-pointers in the final five minutes. As the New York Knicks, who led by 14 points with 2:39 left in Game 1 of the Eastern Conference finals, deteriorated on national television. As a Madison Square Garden stuffed with celebrities and 19,812 fans flipped from euphoria, to anxiety, to stunned silence. As Indiana instigator Tyrese Haliburton held his hands to his neck and repeated history.

Trailing 125-123 with 2.5 seconds left, Haliburton bounded into the paint, lost his dribble, then beelined back to the 3-point line. The 25-year-old two-time All-Star released a rainbow that bounced high off the rim, stopped above the bucket, appeared to sneer at gravity and nose-dived through the net.

From there, Haliburton — who has dabbled in professional wrestling — happily played the heel. He pointed at TNT analyst and Pacers Hall of Famer Reggie Miller and made the universal “choke” sign, channeling Miller’s move after an iconic Eastern Conference Finals comeback against the Knicks in 1994.

Though Haliburton’s hurl was downgraded to a 2-pointer because his foot was on the line, Indiana earned an unforgettable 138-135 win in overtime.

This is NBA basketball at its theatrical, braggadocios best.

Moments such as this make it clear just what we’re missing.

Otherwise, Seattle sports fans aren’t missing much. There are plenty of other options in an increasingly crowded market. Like the Mariners, who on Wednesday won their seventh consecutive road series to take a 3 1/2-game lead in the AL West. Like the Seahawks, who went 10-7 in coach Mike Macdonald’s debut. Like the Huskies and Cougs and Storm and Kraken and Sounders and Reign … and even a professional women’s hockey franchise set to start in the fall.

This is a proud sports city with plenty to see and support.

But when the NBA is at its best, there may be nothing better.

Which, I know, is a weighty when — considering the league’s regular season has been mired by the maddening onset of “load management,” as superstars sit and paying fans are fed a lesser product. As traditional post play, fundamentals and physicality are sacrificed for three-point contests and infinite free throws. As defense — remember defense? — gets phased out from the game.

The NBA has its issues. But there’s still a hole here.

Of course, the league can fill it by bringing back the SuperSonics, who were unceremoniously uprooted to Oklahoma City in 2008. This month, commissioner Adam Silver said in an interview on SiriusXM NBA Radio that he expects expansion to be discussed at the league’s next ownership meeting in July.

“Look, obviously I know there’s tremendous interest in Seattle,” Silver said. “I know there’s tremendous interest in Las Vegas and several other cities as well, whether I’ve read about the interest or have heard indirectly from others.

“Just to be clear, we haven’t begun any sort of process. So even to (the) extent cities have reached out, we said, ‘Thank you for your interest, but we’re not ready to take meetings yet and have more in-depth discussions.’ We will have that opportunity early summer again to talk to all the different ownership groups in the NBA and get a sense.”

Sonics fans have heard and felt this all before, served a diet of stale breadcrumbs in an indefinite waiting game. Meanwhile, the Oklahoma City Thunder — buoyed by 26-year-old league MVP Shai Gilgeous-Alexander — are favorites to win the franchise’s first NBA title.

If all of this feels unfair, a nightmare worse than the one Knicks fans witnessed Wednesday night, that’s because it is.

But someday, the Sonics won’t be missing anymore. Someday, Wednesday’s spectacle will center in Seattle, under Climate Pledge Arena’s resilient roof. Someday, that basketball will nosedive into our net. Someday, maybe soon, you’ll celebrate. Not for the first time.

Someday, you’ll (again) feel how one of my best friends — a groomsman in my wedding — felt. He’s an Indianapolis resident and a Pacers season-ticket holder — a man who loves his wife, his dog and Haliburton. I’ve never asked the order.

On Oct. 27, he took my wife and me to the Pacers’ home opener, while I was in Indianapolis to cover UW football’s 31-17 loss at Indiana. The Pacers looked lifeless in a 118-114 loss to a 76ers squad playing without stars Joel Embiid and Paul George.

Though Haliburton hit an eerily familiar three to force overtime, nothing about that lackluster loss suggested they’d silence Madison Square Garden nearly seven months later.

“I can’t stop refreshing my feeds just absorbing every new piece of content about it,” the aforementioned friend texted me Thursday. “It was the greatest basketball game ever in my opinion. Just pure basketball poetry. I watched [with] 8 of our friends and we all just attacked each other screaming.”

For 17 years, we’ve missed those screams.

But that’s the thing about poetry: there’s never enough.

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